


Game of Life

by KrazyKeke



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (it's not Erik doing that), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Black Character(s), Black Family, Black!Reader - Freeform, Domestic Violence, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Post-Black Panther (2018), Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 18:00:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14676461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrazyKeke/pseuds/KrazyKeke
Summary: A real man never hurts a woman. Be very careful when you make a woman cry, because God counts her tears. The woman came out of the man's rib, not from his feet to be walked on and not from his head to be superior, but from his side to be equal. Under the arm to be protected, and next to the heart to be loved.





	1. Chapter 1

‘This probably isn’t a good idea.’ You thought to yourself as you side eyed your ‘friend’? Associate? Yeah, associate is a decent synonym. Erik Stevens wasn’t somebody that you would consider on the very short list of close confidantes to be classified as anything but, well, a fuckboy. 

The only reason you knew the guy at all was because he used to mess around with your flatmate, past tense because Nadia was once again back with her long term, on again, off again, boyfriend, Travis. 

It was like a soap opera in this tiny apartment, more specifically a telenova, and you hadn’t turned on the subtitles before cluing in. 

You had little to no idea why Erik had asked (i.e. borderline demanded) that you hang out with him today. You had no reason to even accept his ridiculous request, except for the fact that you were bored.

He had brought his own PS4 and some games. Mainly ‘manly’ games like Call of Duty, Telltale: the Walking Dead, NBA 2K18, Assassin’s Creed Origins, and  Naruto Shippuden: Ultimate Ninja Storm 4. You thought for sure he would want to play CoD first, but the guy popped in the disk to Naruto and handed you a controller. 

“–And that’s all how you play. Got it?”

Giving him a small, closed mouthed smile, you nodded. He nodded and took his own controller in hand before copping a seat next to you. Erik selected Uchiha Sasuke and you chose Tsunade, side eyeing him once again when he snorted. 

A’ight then, mothafucka, game on then.

He expected an easy win, for his rushed explanation of the controls to throw you off, but what he didn’t know is that you owned this game and had played it religiously. 

You destroyed him, again and again, and again. 

It didn’t matter what type of character he chose, or how he resorted to using his weapons (the cheater, ha!) you knew all the best combinations and move sets to get his character’s health bar in the red zone quickly. 

“Ay, one more game.” 

Standing up, you cracked your back, humming as you felt the tension seep out of you. “Bruh, I gotta go to work.”

He was frustrated, “Just one more game, damn!”

You rolled your eyes as you step half out the door, waving behind you in a ‘shoo!’ manner. “Learn to stop button smashing and spazzing out on the controller first, then holla at me for a rematch, boy.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Somehow, it’d become a tradition for Erik to find his way to Nadia and your apartment to challenge you to a video game marathon. More specifically, he wanted to keep trying to beat you at Naruto Shippuden: Ultimate Ninja Storm 4. You felt pity for the nigga, he was a glutton for punishment. 

“There you go, spazzing out on the controller again.” You muttered out the side of your mouth, eyes glued to the TV screen as you flicked the left analog stick, making the character on screen, Itachi, back up and vanish in a body flicker, dodging the shurikens that his character, Sasuke, had thrown. “It’s not Tekken. You can just smash random buttons and hope for the best.”

He sucked his teeth. “Worry ‘bout yourself. I’m gon win this time. I am gon’ win…”

“No, you ain’t.” Crossing your feet underneath your butt, you sit up straighter on the couch. “No. You. Ain’t.” Biting your bottom lip, you quickly press the buttons that would allow your character to utilize his secret technique, just in time too, as Erik threw his hand in front of your line of vision. “Oh mah gawd, you a fuckin’ cheater!!”

“I was stretching my arm.” He tried to lie.

“Cheaterrrrrrrr! Cheating motha–” Cutting yourself off, you jumped up, laughing and doing a jig as Itachi on screen delivered his line in Japanese (Erik, this fucking weeabo, o.m.g.) and you’re declared the winner. “Ahhh!” You stuck your tongue out. “I still won.  _Ha_! I won and you’re a cheating cheater who cheats.”

“Man, whatever. This game lame anyway.” Erik huffed. 

“Yeah, I guess it’s lame  _now_ because you lost,  ** _AGAIN_** , to the,” you sassily cocked your hip. “ **BAWSE**. I’m the MVP and you lucky to know me, m–”

Your victory celebration is cut short by the feeling of Erik’s lips on yours. Brain short circuiting, the controller falls from your hands as you flail mentally and literally for a second before your hands find his chest (ooh, muscles!) to break the kiss.

“Uh-uh. I c–” His lips find your neck, hands holding you up as your legs nearly give out underneath you. That’s your hotspot. “ _I can’t._ ” Shoving at his chest, you’re relieved when he lets go this time. The pupils of his eyes are blown wide with arousal and he’s breathing heavily. 

“You gotta get up outta here. I gotta go to work.”

It’s a blatant lie and Erik snorts. “Yea, a’ight. Whatever you say, Y/N.” 

You retreat back to the kitchen, needing the extra space away from him, as he gets his stuff and packs up. When the front door slams shut, you exhale sharply through your mouth, dragging your hands down your face, exhausted. 

‘Today has been very weird.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh. Things heating up in here.


	3. Chapter 3

_Knock-Knock-Knock!_

_**DIIIIIIIIIIIIING-DONG!** _

You jerked awake at the sound of someone insistently knocking on the apartment door, while ringing the doorbell at certain intervals. Blearily glancing at the alarm clock on the dresser next to your bed, the red numbers read 2:02 A.M. Who the hell was knocking on the door this early in the morning? Couldn’t be Nadia, she was staying with her family for a week. 

_**DING-DONG! DING-DONG! DING-DOOOOOOOOONG!** _

“Alright already, damn!” If this was the landlord trying to get some late night (or early, depending on how you looked at it) nookie, you would bash his head in with a skillet. 

You’d told that pervert more than once that he needed to–

“Ay.” It was Erik, and he had an overnight bag. Without even thinking twice, you slammed the door in his face. “Really, that’s what we on, Y/N?” His voice is muffled but you understand just fine. 

“This ain’t a hotel, nigga! Get the fuck from ‘round here.” You were so angry, you could spit. 

“Look, stop playing.” The doorknob started to turn and you put your weight on it, keeping it closed. “Can you just open the door, so we can talk about this?” You didn’t respond and he sighed. “I got a text from Nadia, she told me to come through and check on your evil ass.”

“Uh-huh.” You’re unconvinced.

“There’s been break-ins throughout the area, she got worried and, look, if you don’t believe me, call her.” 

“I ain’t callin’ nobody at two in the morning.” You exhaled noisily. Then reluctantly opened the door a tad. “Let me see your phone.” Then you extended your hand after stating your request. 

“What? No!”

You started to close the door again. “Then take yo ass home!” He stuck his booted foot in the door. “Seriously? Move your big ass foot!”

“I’m givin’ you my phone, damn.” He held out the cellular device. 

Not wanting to look a gift’s horse in the mouth, you snatch the phone, ignoring him kiss his teeth and mutter something under his breath, it sounded like ‘Rude ass girl..’ Instead of taking him to task, you read the message, and it had indeed been sent to him less than two hrs ago. 

Handing him back the phone, you jerk the door open. “Come on.”

“No, ‘Sorry, I was mean as fuck’, or nothing? It ain’t like I didn’t get outta bed and drive all the way here…” 

“You don’t get rewarded for being a decent human being.” Yawning into your hand, you flicked a negligent hand towards the couch. “Plus, it’s still two in the a.m., fool. I’m going back to bed.”

“I swear, you a grumpy old lady.” he muttered, tossing his overnight bag near the table where a lamp sits on top of. “Ay, wait a sec. Play me in Naruto, again.”

“That’s the real reason you brought yo ass over here, ain’t it?” Erik scratched at his cheek and you rolled your eyes, turning to leave. “Goodnight.”

“Just one game! I bet I can beat you this time.”

Stopping in your tracks, you glance back at him. He was cheesing now, knowing he had you. “Fine. One game. Just  _one_. Then I gotta go to bed, forreal. I got work later in the morning.” 

You never could back down from a challenge. 

Naturally, that one game turned into two. Then the two of you started having conversations about the most random things, not just trash talking and goading each other to get wrekt’d. Somehow, he’d migrated so that he was sitting on the floor in between your legs and you were half hunched over, elbows resting on his shoulders as you gave him some tips so that he might be able to beat a noob. 

“Really ain’t as hard as you make…” 

You paused and belatedly realized just how close he was. 

Erik didn’t say say anything, but then he reached a hand up, placing it behind the nape of your neck. He gave you ample time to push him away and tell him to stop. When you did neither, he leaned up and kissed you. Just a peck to begin with, to test the waters. His dark eyes searched yours, looking for rejection, refusal, and whatever he saw had him darting forward for another kiss and this time you kissed back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws confetti*


	4. Chapter 4

You’d made a mess of Erik’s face. And his shirt, which is discarded and thrown carelessly across the room somewhere after the second time he’s made you gush all over him. Shivering all over, loose limbed and languid, you didn’t do much besides blink lazily when his hands graze against your sides, smoothing over your heated skin. “Ay, you good?” 

“Mmph.” Intelligible words are beyond you right now. 

He laughed overhead and you half smiled a little, before a thought came to you. Once you had the strength to do so, you sat up, crawling over to his side, straddling his waist, leg thrown over either of his sides. Erik’s hands are on your hips, dark eyes intense and intent as he stared up at you.

“Your turn.” The words are breathed against his lips.

He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t ask if you’re sure. It’s all in your body language that you’re down with what’s about to happen, no backing out this time. His lips find the side of your neck and kiss down your collarbone. You loose a happy hum as he traces his tongue down the front of your chest, bringing a hand to cup the underside of your breast and lift, tracing his tongue down the curve and using it to circle your nipple. He smirks slightly at the moan that escapes from your mouth, and at that, you bury your fingers in his hair and yank. When he pulls back slightly, your firm fingers guide his head to your other breast. His mouth takes it obligingly, nibbling and sucking and licking as his hand continued to stroke the other.

He could hear you take a deep, sharp breath, and in a moment your fingers are on his waistband, tugging his shorts down, and he lifted a bit, kicking them the rest of the way off his hips, then out of the way. He kisses his way up your chest and neck, pressing his lips to yours again, cupping your face as he leans forward. He can feel you on top of him, hot and wet and ready, and he splays his hand across your abdomen. He lowers his hand after a moment, sliding it down to rub against your clit. You arch your back, and he takes a moment to enjoy the view. 

You take his wrist and tugs it away from you. Letting go, you lift yourself slightly, taking his cock and sinking onto it in one long,  ** _S L O W_**  movement. He groans softly, hands going to grip your thighs. Bending down, you bite lightly at his lip before kissing him. He can feel your breasts pressing against his chest as you slide back up, then down again. Moaning into your mouth, he bucked his hips upward, unable to keep still. 

It’s not just as good as he had imagined. It’s better.

The two of you start moving together slowly at first, not enough to be a rhythm, even, and he can see, feel, your muscles tensing along with his own, breaths growing heavier. And then you straighten, a slight curve to your back as you tilt your head back, eyes closed, and he can’t, won’t, refuses, to look away for a second. Your hips roll forward as he thrusts up, and you’re setting the pace, steady and demanding as you grind down against him. He slides his hands up you thighs as they tense and flex, thumbs brushing against your abdomen before his hands slide up your back, trying to map every inch of you.

It isn’t until you open your eyes and looks down at him, brow pinched with desire, mouth slightly ajar, that he realized he groaned your name. You pause for a moment to lean down and kiss him before resuming, pulling a groan from his lips as the pleasure continues to build. Your hands move from his shoulders to his arms, and he lifts one to cup the back of your head as they continue to kiss, lips meeting and then receding, only to come together again. When you break the kiss next, you don’t pull back, and he can feel your breathing grow unsteady. 

He knows you’re close. 

So is he. 

He lets go, sliding his hand between them and reaching for your clit again with his thumb. The noise you makes is needy, wanting, and he can’t help that it amuses him offhandedly that you can still be ready to bust. 

“Greedy.” Affection and a slight teasing tone coats the word to ease the sting. 

He can feel the shudder running through your body and you pause, tighten, for just a moment, and the feel of you clenching around him, is almost enough to push him over the edge as well. His hips buck up involuntarily, and you understand; it only takes a few more rolls of your hips, before he’s hurriedly pulling out and jerking his cock once, twice, three times, before painting your breasts and stomach with his seed.

Heart thundering in his chest, breath coming out in little puffs, still Erik’s dick twitched with interest as you dipped a finger in the white mess decorating your breasts and lifted the finger to your mouth, licking it clean and maintaining eye contact the whole time. 

Then you smiled, looking so innocent. 

His hand darted out and circled your throat, choking you a little as he dragged you forward for a sloppy kiss. 


	5. Chapter 5

“Stop cheating.” Your nose is scrunched up with irritation and your eyes don’t leave the TV screen while your hands work out the right combos on the controller. So you know that your main dude, your all time favorite character, Neji, is getting trounced by Erik’s go-to character, Sasuke. 

It was seriously giving you hives. 

“You the one taught me how to play!” He shot back. 

“Ain’t no way you got…” Just as you were about to let him have it, Sasuke on screen delivered a final attack that dropped Neji’s lifebar into the red zone. “You better not!”

This asshole used Sasuke’s secret technique.

He beat you. For. the. first. time.

There’s silence for a few seconds then he whooped and hopped up, acting like a damn fool with his victory dance. You rolled your eyes so hard, placing the controller down gently instead of flinging it as you wanted; no need to be  _too_ petty. 

“You gotta say it, now.” You raised an eyebrow and he elaborated. “I’m the best and I’ve surpassed the master, say it.” 

Snorting, you shake your head. “Boy, bye.” Making a move to rise up off your knees, as you’d been laying on your stomach on the floor, you blink as he pushed you back down. “Erik, stop playin’, damn! We been on that game for hours, I’m hungry.” 

His hands find a ticklish spot and you flinched away, screeching with laughter. “Say it, and I’ll let you up.” 

“No!”

“Come, on, say it!”

“No!”

Somehow, the two of you had been goofing off and playing around so much that you didn’t immediately notice the position you’d fallen into. Until you did. He had your ankle in one hand, left leg high in the air, while your right leg is planted on his shoulder and you’re arching your back, trying to scoot back and wiggle free. 

He’s so close to you…

The playful atmosphere changed instantly, becoming heavy, thick with tension.

You bit your bottom lip. Trying to come up with something witty to say, but then he leaned forward to kiss you, hips pressing intimately against your clothed sex, the leggings you wore offering the barest amount of protection. Your breath stuttered and he took full advantage, tongue slipping into your mouth, stroking against yours sensually. He broke the kiss temporarily to place wet kisses down the column of your throat, before coming back up to whisper in your ear, “You gon’ let me taste you? Come on, Y/N, baby, I’ve been dreaming about how your pussy would feel clenching around my tongue.” 

The mental image is a little too much and you let out an embarrassing whine. Erik didn’t seem to care, teeth flashing in a white toothed, dimpled smile. He made quick work of your leggings and now saturated panties. 

Your juices completed covered your pussy and are starting to drip down your thighs, making you slippery and wet. The faint musk of your juices caused him to close his eyes, inhaling deeply, before he spread your legs wide and buried his face in between your thighs. You involuntarily screamed when his tongue stabbed at you. Licking your dripping wet pussy with one slurp. He pulled at the heavy lips with his teeth. Erik nuzzled his nose, mouth, and chin into your cunt. “You taste good. So good. Want you to cum in my mouth again and again.”

Body trembling at the raw  **WANT** in his voice, you jolt a little as his tongue slapped against your clit and shamelessly grinded against his face. He nibbled on your wet labia, sucked hard on your clit. Your hands tangle in his dreads and then somehow he covered your entire pussy with his mouth, sucking hard. 

It’s a miracle you didn’t rip his hair out as you cum. 

Your juices flowing out of you and Erik licked your pussy clean thoroughly, and with one last teeth-tongue stab at your clit, moved his face from between your thighs. “Mm-mm, that’s one.” He licked the last of your pussy juices from his lips before leaning down to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his tongue and strangely enough, that was erotic. 

“I’ma need you to do that again.”

Feeling a swooping sensation in your stomach, you identify the emotion as exhilaration as he sits flat on his back, hands going to the back of your thighs, massaging your ass cheeks before you lifted yourself up so that you could straddle his face…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love me or nah? Leave me a review??


	6. Chapter 6

“Mail for you~” Nadia singsonged. 

You glanced up from the book you were reading, still chewing on a spoonful of cereal and not totally functional as a human being right now. Dropping the spoon back into the bowl, you reach up and accept the envelope that she handed to you while on the trek to the fridge. 

It was probably just bills.

Tearing it open, you pull out a…thank you card? 

Brows furrowing with confusion, you open it and swallow quickly, because you nearly spat out the little mouthful left. 

The card contained a picture of Erik with his tongue out, his number and a message that read: “Pussy was splendid. Come through.” 

‘He’s a fucking idiot!!!’ You’re horribly amused, you couldn’t deny that. ‘…Fuuuck, he got a long tongue.’ Just remembering everything that he did was making you hot and bothered, which was probably the point. 

“What’s wrong? You all quiet over here.” Hairs standing up on the back of your neck, still, you kept your posture relaxed as your flatmate read the card from behind your back. “Oh mah gawd, y’all fucked.” You didn’t say anything, refusing to confirm or deny. “Y’all so  **FUCKED**!” Unable to help it, you tensed as she enunciated ‘fucked’ super hard. “O.M.G. I’m so proud of you, sis!”

Wait, what? 

“What?”

“You thought I would visit the fam out of the blue, for no reason, and it’s not Christmas or Thanksgiving?” You gave her a blank, ‘duh, bish!’ look and she rolled her eyes. “Not all families tight like yours, Y/N.”

True. “Okay, so you left because you hoped we would fuck. That’s kind of disturbing. Do you have a camera hidden in here or somethin’?”

Nadia’s face becomes contemplative. “That’s a good idea. I should add that for Travis and m–”

You rise up from your seat, taking your bowl with you. “You a hot mess.” 

“No, don’t walk away!  _ **TELL** me the details_!”

**NEW YORK HILTON  
5:15 P.M.**

“–Ka. N’Jadaka!” 

Glancing away from his cellphone, Erik looked at his cousin. “What?”

“The waitress asked for your order.” T’Challa was calm and composed as always.

Flicking his gaze at her then away, “Just a water.” 

“Thank you.” T’Challa tacked on, belatedly, but the woman is already walking away. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been preoccupied of late. Do you wish to share what’s on your mind?”

He was tempted to snarl that he thought about throwing him off another waterfall, but then paused. Breathed. This was part of the process of being recognized as a full Wakandan citizen. He had to be social – sometimes. Prove to the rest of the advisers that he wasn’t just a loose cannon; that he wanted better, he could be better. “….A girl.” Another pause. “Woman.”

T’Challa thanked the waitress when she brought his lunch and a cup of coffee and Erik’s water. “She interests you.” 

“I ain’t say all that!”

“No,” T’Challa agreed, using a knife to cut an egg into sections. “But then, you didn’t need to.” 

Because Erik was petty, he tipped over his water onto his cousin’s plate.


	7. Chapter 7

“You shouldn’t overthink it.”

Brows furrowing with confusion, Erik glanced at the slightly taller male, wordlessly asking what the hell he’s talking about.

“Not with the advisers, or with…” T’Challa’s gaze flicked to the cellular device sitting innocently on the table. Much to the latter’s frustration, it hadn’t buzzed signalling a text message or let out a ringtone that indicating an incoming call from  **HER** , yet. Oh, he still got numerous missed calls and texts from the other thots, but since they weren’t talking ‘bout nothing, he didn’t reply to any of them.

Scoffing, he shook his head, “Nothing goin’ right lately,” Erik knew that those uppity fucks are gonna make it hard for him the entire process, try and get him to jump through hoops even though he should never have been denied rights to live in his homeland in the first place. 

Kill a couple people, try to overtake a monarchy, then live to talk about it and nobody let you forget that you messed up, ever. Really, it wasn’t like anybody really important actually died.

“In the end, it’s still  _my_ decision and I believe you have made progress.” T’Challa stated simply, he looked up with a smile as the waitress brought a to-go box, placing down a generous tip. 

“I have a meeting soon. Same time, on the twenty-fifth?”

“Yea, a’ight.”

Waiting until he saw T’Challa disappear around the corner, he flagged down the waiter and asked for his own to-go water. A few minutes after she walked away, he mentally said fuck it and texted Y/N first.

Biting your bottom lip, you weighed the pros and the cons. 

Things were fun with Erik, drama free. He could be sweet, if not a little annoying with his competitive streak while playing Naruto. Then again, you  **ALSO** had a competitive streak and hated to lose at that game, to anyone. 

Going to his house…that seemed to be crossing some type of protocol for this…

What were they even doing? 

‘Calm down, calm down. It might not even be  _that_ serious.’ You felt annoyed with yourself. To think that just a short while ago, you’d labelled it as nothing, minor and forgettable  ~~(not that he was really forgettable)~~. Now you were freaking out over what you should wear and which bra and underwear set would look sexier versus what is practical. Firmly deciding to shake it off, you put him out of mind and continued getting ready for work. 

The day went by mostly without fanfare, just going through the motions. Routine. A few coworkers wanted to hang with you for a drink but against your better judgement, you passed on that offer. Nadia texted that she had plans with Travis and needed the apartment for the night. That’s the only reason that you bothered to text Erik and ask for his address, despite that it might have been cheaper and easier to crash with one of your siblings, pfft, because that made total sense. 

…Right?

The door opened and you pulled yourself out of your head, glancing toward the sound than down at your hands, only to have a braingasm. Because he answered the door wearing a towel, exposing his muscled, scarred upper torso… 

‘Don’t look down.’ Went the angel on your shoulder, but she sounded just as pressed. ‘Run. Run faaaar away.’

“Wassup?”

“Actually, I should probably,” You cleared your throat. “Gotta, um–” His hands are suddenly on your hips, dangerously low, near your ass. “Mmm.” 

“You know you want to come.” He murmured, warm breath ghosting your ear. 

“Unh, what?”

“Come inside.” You could feel him smiling against your cheek. “Yea?”

Wordless, silently admitting that it was pointless to argue, you let him guide you in his apartment, the door slamming shut. His lips find the side of your neck, body flattened against yours and you bury your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly. He nipped at your throat in response, the feel of those sharp canines digging into the vulnerable flesh made your pussy clench and you’re already making a mess of your panties.

Almost as if he’d sensed the direction of your thoughts, his hands are quickly popping the buttons of your jeans, sliding the denim down just enough to push your panties to the side and, “Ooooh…” His middle finger dips into your wetness, sliding in and out, in and out, at a tortuously slow pace. 

Only when you began to buck back against him did he add another finger, “Please.” He added one more finger, and just when you couldn’t take anymore teasing, the towel around his hips fell to the floor and he carefully pulled his fingers free of your wetness, raising the soaked digits to his lips to lick them clean. Lifting you up, he managed one, maybe two steps, before giving up and he fucked you right then and there on your hands and knees on the hallway floor. 

**MUCH, _MUCH_ LATER**

“What did you want to show me?” The both of you are spread out on the couch. He’s beneath you, hands on your hips and your head rests on his chest, the TV is on but it’s really just background noise. 

“Mm?” You nudge him. “What, oh.  _Oh_ , I got Injustice 2, tryna lure your skittish ass over here.” Suddenly he smirked. “But it look like I shoulda saved my money.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up.” A beat passes. “…I wanna play.” He doesn’t say anything. “Erik.” Silence. “Erik, stop playin’ sleep!”


	8. Chapter 8

Blinking, your eyelids fluttered open then shut. 

Then fluttered open again, the surroundings blurry and dark. 

You didn’t know what it was that woke you, but now that you’re awake, you can’t go back to sleep. Rubbing away the sleep crusting at the corners of your eye, you reached down and moved Erik’s arm from around your waist. He made a discontented grumble before burrowing further into the sheets, face turned against the pillows on the couch. 

Relieved, you let out a quiet exhale, you lean over and grab your cellphone, taking it off the charger that it’d been kept on for most of the night, the glow from the big screen TV illuminated the living room area. Leaving the living room to make the trek to the bathroom, as soon as you’re inside, you lock the door. 

Hands search the wall before finding the light switch. The seat to the toilet is up and you roll your eyes heavenward, snagging a few tissues out of the tissue holder, using them to gingerly lower the seat, wiping the top mainly out of habit and then took a seat. Entering the code to unlock the phone screen, you check you messages. 

Nakida did not like fighting; she  _could_ because her dad and your older brother, Darius, had taught her self-defense, but the fact of the matter was, that unlike the majority of the family, she wasn’t on that rah-rah nonsense 24/7. So, you took Nadia’s messages with a grain of salt, logging into the Facebook page that you so rarely used via the link she’d provided.

Only to have your mind blown. 

That was indeed your niece, fighting two girls in a hallway and you assumed that this took place at school. Watching the fight all the way through, you feel pride that she managed to not only hold her own but whooped both them fast ass little girls, but on the other hand, you’re still worried. Nibbling on your thumb nail, you dial Darius’ phone, only for it to go straight to voicemail.

“You know who this is. When you get this message, call me back, let me know what’s up with Kia, how she doin’.” Placing the phone on the bathroom sink counter, you use do your business, wash, and dry your hands, then place your cellphone in your back pocket.

Hearing a bit of a commotion, you unlock the bathroom door and step out.

“Who’s this bitch?!”

‘Lord, don’t do it.’ Glancing to the ceiling briefly, you prayed for patience even as you side eyed Erik hard as hell. “I’m ‘out the door’.” Smiling benignly, you snag your purse and other little things while they argue, about to walk around her. 

“Oh, no, no, boo-boo. Don’t leave yet. Don’t leave–” 

“Samara,  **STOP**!”

Pain seared through your scalp when this ho pulled the weakest move in the game: she grabbed your hair. Then she sucker punched you in the face. Admittedly, you’re blindsided at first, because what the fuc– When she attempted to hit you again, this red haze took over your vision.

“B i t c h… get off my hair, bitch!” Your voice became rougher with anger, and you grabbed her leg when she tried to kick you in the stomach. The both of you ended up falling to the floor and you reach up, wrapping a hand around her throat, choking her out. “Get off my hair bitch! Get. off. my. hair!” With your free hand, you pull at her fingers, trying to get her to release you. She kicks at you again and you grunt when the hit lands in your stomach. 

Now you’re both rolling around on the floor like it’s a schoolyard brawl.

If you’d been of the sanest mind, you’d have been embarrassed by your conduct. Right now, you’re only concerned with beating this bitch’s ass for the disrespect. 

Bumping into the dining room table, finally, she accidentally lets the death grip on your hair go and you kick her in the face once, twice. Getting up off your back, you’re breathing hard, short and angry. You’re about to overturn that whole table on that ho when someone grabs your arm and you turn to see it’s Erik. 

“You won, you won. Stop, damn, crazy ass girl!”

Wrenching free, you glare as you run your hand down the front of your wrinkled shirt, “Nigga, you got me fucked up!  _I oughta kick yo ass too_. Got me looking, ooh…” The urge to backhand the shit out of him was strong and he seemed to get it because he took a step back. Gathering up your things, again, you throw open the front door and walk out.

“Ay, when can I call you?”

Giving him the finger over your shoulder, you keep walking, “Lose my number, muthafucka!”


	9. Chapter 9

“The fuck happened to your face?” Is the first thing out of Darius’ mouth when you opened the front door. 

Before you could say a word, your niece cut in. “Daddy, ain’t it obvious? Aunt Y/N got into a fight and lost.” Nakida commented, voice and posture radiating sass and teenage rebellion. 

“I did not lose!”

“That’s not what Aunt Nadia sayin’ on Facebook.”

You glanced back at said woman who looked like a deer in headlights. Giving her a ‘bitch, this ain’t over’ look, you return to your family. “That’s not what happened at all.”

“I hope you beat her up. Uncle Davion and Isiah always hyping your fights–”

Darius had enough, snatching her phone. “Okay, little girl. Go sit your bad ass down.” Kia flounced over to where an empty spot on the couch was, dropping heavily onto the furniture, nearly throwing Nadia to the ground in the process. Nadia cut her a look but Nakida didn’t pay her any attention. “I need you to watch her for today. Just a couple hours while I’m at work.”

“And why can’t her momma?” You’re suspicious.

“Look, it’s complicated. Just…just please do this for yo big bruh, yea?”

Shaking your head, you sigh. “For  _you_ , a’ight.” You hmm’ed when he gave you a half hug and kissed the side of your forehead. “Okay, okay! I get it, love you too. Now let go.” 

Darius laughed before blowing a kiss at his daughter. “Love you, baby. Be good for your aunt, peanut, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, Dad. Love you too. Bye.” As soon as he left, she looked at you. “I’m hungry. Can we have Chinese for dinner?”

“No, but you  _can_ go to the kitchen and fix yourself a bologna sandwich.” She smacked her lips and rolled her eyes. “Or you can wait til your dad gets here. You ain’t gotta eat our food, boo boo.” 

“That’s right. Check yaself, little girl.” Nadia added. 

“Okay, Miss Dippin’, you ain’t in it either.” You pointed at her. 

“What, girl, I gotcha back!”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, whatever.” Taking a seat, you pull out your cellphone just as Nakida lumbered towards the kitchen. 

‘Nigga, bye.’ Rolling your eyes, you turn your phone on vibrate and place it on the dresser to avoid temptation. The urge to call him up and cuss his ass out nearly overpowering but you wasn’t tryna set a bad image for your niece. 

It was already terrible enough that she’d seen your face all kinds of jacked up. And with the rest of the fam probably hyping her up, she could get the idea that fighting in school was cute. 

“Make me a sandwich too! Add some of that spicy cheese on there.” You call to the teen in the kitchen. “You hook it up and I’ll order the Chinese.”

Nadia looked at you like you’re crazy. Getting that stuff delivered in this neighborhood, to this apartment, is horrendously expensive but you didn’t care at the moment.

“You want mayo or mustard?! How bout some pickles and these yellow jalapenos?”

“Surprise me! Hook it up, girl, hook it up.” 

Thus that’s how it went. 

Nakida, Nadia and you had an impromptu girls’ day. Blasting Beyonce, dancing on the couch, pretending to hit them high notes (in truth, y’all sounded like cats being murdered but whatever) and manicures, facials, etc. Nadia managed to weasel out the whole truth of why Nakida beat the hell out of those two girls, and although you weren’t too surprised that they’d been picking on her for awhile, you’d wished that she’d said something sooner. 

‘But snitches look weak.’ You wish you had the words to help, but you didn’t. So, instead you gave her an extra spring roll from your box. 

Darius had to stay at work longer than expected but you didn’t mind keeping Nakida company. The two of you stayed up watching Inuyasha together, complaining about how stupid Kagome was and that Kikyo was a bitch. It’s close to ten at night when your brother finally arrives and Nakida is conked out. He gathers her up in his arms, saying thanks and you reply any time, that she’s always welcome, and she is. 

You’re not an expert at life, but you knew what it’s like to be lost, without guidance, if you could be a safe harbor for her until she learned how to swim… Well, you’d do it happily. 

As you’re cleaning up the mess, you’re yawning off and on, about to fall asleep while standing up, then there’s a knock at the door. Rolling your eyes heavenward, asking for strength, you walk over to the front door and look out the peephole. 

It’s Erik.

“Go away.” You said without opening the door, your words undoubtedly muffled, but he can hear you fine. 

“Can we please talk about this? You been ignoring my texts and calls all day.”

You scritched at your hair lightly. “Ain’t nothing you need to explain, Erik. You ain’t my nigga, I’m not your girl. You allowed to sleep with whoever you please. I don’t care.” 

“I didn’t sleep with her though. Not with anyone…look.” There’s a thump and he’s probably leaning against the door. “Please, let me come in. I just want to see your face.” 

‘Lord Jesus, what would you do?’ There’s no answer and you hadn’t really expected one. After an internal struggle, you unlatched the door and unbolted the locks, twisting the knob, you pull it open. “I’ve had a long day and I wanna sleep. So, five minutes. Go.”

He ran inside but was smart enough not to reach out and touch you. “Damn, Y/N, yo face…”

“Four minutes and fifty seven seconds, nigga.”

“I’m…” He took a deep breath, a complicated expression on his face. “ _ **SORRY**_ about earlier. About Samara and everything that happened after. It looked suspect as fuck but I wasn’t tryna get her out of there because I was sleeping with the girl. I just didn’t want any drama.”

You pursed your lips. “Mm.” 

“I ain’t been fucking with nobody but you.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Look, can you cut the tough girl act for five seconds. I’m tryna be real wit yo ass–” You cut him a look that could cut steel and he glared back at you before he sighed, shoulders slumping. “…I know you ain’t tryna fuck with me like that, but I like you.”

Your heart turned over in your chest but you tried to keep a calm facade. “Yea, whatever.”

“I’m serious. You mean as hell, and you prolly only dealt with me because I buy video games for us to have an excuse to chill together, but I like you. Even though your taste in anime characters is lousy.” 

“Itachi is a real nigga and Sasuke is a emo ass bitch that deserved to get merked!! I’m not changing my mind!” He smiled then, dimples showing and you looked away from him, arms crossed in front of yourself. “You get on my nerves.” 

Sensing that the danger had passed, he finally approached, wrapping his arms around you. “I like you.” 

“Okay…” You turn your face from him, unwilling to give in just yet.

“I like you.” He murmured softly, the words warm against your ear. “I like you, baby.” Erik crooned, hands wandering down your shirt, about to drift under the material.

You stopped him. “Uh-uh. That’s how this whole mess started. You starting from ground zero, nigga.” 

He kissed his teeth but obligingly removed his hand. “Forreal?”

“Dates and all that other shit. I expect to be wined and dined, so don’t try me with no Burger King or Mickie D’s.” As you talked, you were nudging him out of your space.

“You was messin’ with some lame ass broke niggas then.”

Snorting, you rolled your eyes with a shrug. “I guess I upgraded.” 

“No guessing, you did.” 

“Always got something smart to say don’tchu?” You’re exasperated. “Let me have the last w–” He tilted your chin up and kissed you. Once, twice, and the third time, he sucked on your tongue, hands bracing underneath your ass to keep you from falling. “ _Erik_.”

“Just something to tide me over. Ground zero, I gotchu, ma.” He held his hands up, an ‘innocent’ expression gracing his face. “Come on, stop cleaning for a sec. Come play me in this game.” 

It was likely your eyes would get stuck with how hard and often you’d been rolling them today. “You lucky you cute.” 

He copped a seat on the floor, cheesing as he set up the system. 

“I like you too.” 


	10. Chapter 10

“Can you watch her til tonight?” Darius begged. “Please, sis.” 

Standing in a baggy pair of sweats and t-shirt, you blearily stared at your brother. Trying to shoot lasers out of your eyes. Really, though, you shouldn’t have been playing Naruto Online until 3 A.M. but you had no idea that someone would be knocking on your door at seven. What kind of heathen got up before the sun came out?

“Run this by me again. Why her Momma can’t watch her own daughter?” 

“It’s complicated.” 

“Nigga, if you hit me with that tired ass excuse one more time…” Using the back of your hand to rub at your eyes, you opened the front door wider and move so that Nakida can shuffle inside. “You best have a good reason. I had plans.” 

Yeah, it is amazing, but somehow Erik had (surprisingly) kept to the rules. In your mind, the fanciest place to eat is Red Lobster or Golden Corral or something, and when you’d said that, he gave you this incredulous look before driving to a bougie upscale restaurant called La Deliciouex. 

Or whatever. 

The food was bland as hell and the portions were far too small. 

And although the price of the meal for the both of you must have been outrageous, he didn’t even blink, merely slid a black card into waiter’s hand; he should have tipped twenty at most (because that shit was terrible, no lie) Erik dropped a small stack, linked arms with you, snagged that little black card from the waiter’s outstretched hand at the checkout station, and y’all walked out, the feeling of judging white folks burning against the back of your neck. 

After that catastrophic first experience with ‘fine cuisine’, instead he took you to sushi places. You enjoyed these outings much, much more and while you burned up with curiosity about what type of job he had to be practically blowing hundreds of dollars on you per date, Erik remained mysterious about it.

“Look. Next time, I’ll tell you everything, but I really gotta go. I can’t be late clocking in.” Darius hedged, jarring you back to the present. “Today I get paid, I’ll bring some babysitting money.” 

“We family, don’t trip.” You reminded him, covering your mouth as you yawned. “But I’ma see you later.” After saying your goodbyes, you closed the front door, locking up again. Turning, you saw that Nakida was already stretched out on the couch with a spare blanket and a pillow. It looked terribly uncomfortable, especially because she’s so tall, and you felt a surge of guilt. 

“You can take my bed, you know.”

“Nah, ‘m good, auntie.” 

“You sure?”

“Auntie. Please. I’m tired…” 

Retreating to your bedroom, you decided to bite the bullet and texted Erik about the change in plans. Shutting the door, you got underneath the covers, wrapping yourself up.

Mouth pulling into an annoyed frown, you rolled your eyes. Truthfully, you were a little too tired to be feeding into this man’s ego, but as you considered yourself moderately mature, your fingers dialed his number. Placing the cellphone to your ear, you listened to it ring…and ring….and ring…

Just before it went to voicemail,  **“…WHAT?”**

Brows pulling together, you took the phone away to glance at the screen incredulously, “Um, excuse you. Good morning.”

**“Y/N, IT’S TOO EARLY TO BE PLAYIN’ THESE TYPE OF GAMES. WHY YOU CALLIN’, THOUGHT YOU WAS BABYSITTING?”**

You could literally hear the air quotes in that sentence. He thought you was bullshitting, or… It was a long shot, but maybe…. “If you wanna come over and meet my niece, you can. I just thought you wouldn’t want to.” 

 **“WHY WOULDN’T…”** He sighed into the phone and you can visualize him scratching at his dreads. **“BECAUSE YOU CANCELLED, I ALREADY TOLD MY COUSIN I WOULD MEET HIM FOR BREAKFAST. I CAN COME THROUGH FOR A LATE LUNCH, OR DINNER, DEPENDING HOW LONG SHE GON BE THERE. Y’ALL WANNA GO OUT TO EAT OR NAH?”  
**

“Well…” You hedged.

**“IT’S YES OR NO, Y/N. I CAN BRING SOMETHIN’ TO Y’ALL.”  
**

“We gon stay in today. But! But, nothing too expensive, please.”

 **“BET.”** Click! He hung up. 

‘This dude is somethin’ else.’ Shaking your head, you put the phone down and settle down to actually sleep some more. 

**ROSE MAJESTY HOTEL & SPA  
10:10 AM**

“Normally, I can get a handle on females and what they want. Her? It’s impossible. One minute she into me, the next she ain’t.” Shaking the pepper shaker aggressively over his eggs, Erik put the shaker down hard on the table again.

“Mm,” T’Challa sipped at his lemonade. “Fascinating.”

“And is too much ask for a little affection? Normally gotta beat a b–” T’Challa cut him a look, and he switched it up, “ _Women_ , off with a stick, but she barely wanna touch a nigga. The hell?” Erik stabbed an egg or two before lifting it to his mouth, took a bite, chewing vigorously. 

“Ah, I understand, I understand,” T’Challa wiped his mouth. “You are upset at this woman for being sensible and guarding her heart, especially after she was in a physical altercation with one of your…female friends.”

He swallowed. “That was almost a whole two months ago!”

“And if this had occurred in reverse?”

Unexpectedly, a surge of red-hot anger flooded his being. Normally, he wouldn’t give a fuck either way what a female did or didn’t do. But… “Tuh!” 

“N’Jadaka,” T’Challa managed to sound fond and exasperated at once. “Halfhearted efforts result in halfhearted results.” Grabbing a scone, he smothered it with jelly. “Initiate an open dialogue with her, discuss if she’s willing to be in a relationship with you, or if she’s comfortable doing…whatever you two are doing. Either way, the uncertainty will be over.”

“You really out here tryna make me look like a bitch nigga.”

“That is my advice, which you asked for, take it or leave it, cousin.” T’Challa smiled at the waitress as she poured him a refill. 

The rest of the time spent together was interspersed with lighter conversation topics and what antics Shuri had gotten into. Sometimes they fell into a lapse of silence on both ends, but it was better than in those earlier months, when Erik was still angry and bitter. Without any real desire or need to do much of anything. 

Lost. That’s what his daddy had called him in the ancestral plane. 

Maybe he wasn’t totally wrong?

Putting in the order at that Chinese place that she liked, he drove to the Rally’s drive-thru, and ordered extra food just in case. Once he got a call back that the order was finished, Erik picked it up and drove to Y/N’s neighborhood. He gave all those nosy ass mothafuckas lookin’ at him blank stares, just darin’ one of them to try anything.

Apparently they wasn’t fools because most, if not all, of them looked away. 

Knocking on the apartment door, he waited, shifting the bags in his hold. After a few minutes, the front door swung open and a teenage (or so he thought, she was tall as fuck) girl stared at him. The silence lingered for a few seconds. “…You gon let me in?”

“Nah. Ion know you. You could be a serial killer.”

True, but… “Then why you open the door?”

“I smelled food, duh. If you killed me, at least I died with a full stomach.”

 _What_?

“Who that?” At last Y/N appeared, saving him from this awkward moment. “Heeey! Why you standing out here? Kida, don’t just stand there, help Erik with the food.” 

“I offered but he was like, ‘I’m the manly man, I got this,’ so don’t be mad at me, Auntie.”

 **WHAT**?

Y/N snorted, snagging a few bags and shoving them in the girl’s hands. “That don’t even sound nothin’ like Erik. Go put that up.” The girl, Kida, rolled her eyes and kissed her teeth but started walking, muttering underneath her breath, “Sure, I’ll give you time to kiss your boyfriend.”

He almost heard an audible crack as Y/N snapped her neck to look after the teen. “What was that?”

“Nothin’!”

“Is it too late to run?” Erik half joked. He tilted his head a little, obliging as she leaned up and kissed his cheek, lingering for a long second. 

“Mm, that depends on you, If you check out early, then we won’t be able to chill later.” 

There is no mistaking that tone, he’s getting some pussy tonight. If he were religious, he might have whispered a thank you to a fictional god, but as it is, Erik merely smirks, gently ushering Y/N out the way, fingers brushing up against her side as he walked past, hefting the bags higher on his shoulder. 

"‘I’m the manly man, I got this.’” He says in his best Arnold Schwarzenegger tone. Kida busts into peals of laughter and he counts it as a victory even as he sets the rest of the bag on the empty counters in the kitchen. 

Winning this kid over might not be too difficult. 


	11. Chapter 11

“I can’t believe I let y’all talk me into this.” You deadpan. Bundled up in a thin jacket, blouse and jeans with the j’s on, it’s a fact that you’re comfortable, cute, and above all else, warm, the last thing being important, especially with how tricky this weather is lately. “I hate the outdoors!” You groaned. 

“Quit being a baby.” Lightly, Erik slapped you thigh. “This traveling circus is in town only for a few days, two which she already missed. I had to do it.”

“No, you really didn’t, but thank you.”

Truthfully, you hadn’t expected Nakida to bond with Erik like she had. Much like her father, the girl wasn’t much for talking if she didn’t know you like that, but Erik managed to charm her in under thirty minutes. We all ate, played Naruto until Kida got frustrated by how often Erik won, then by Mortal Kombat X, they were shooting the shit; she told him stuff about school, her hobbies, etc. And through it all, somehow he managed to weasel out the fact that Kida’s teacher had promised to get the homeroom class tickets to a Cirque du Soleil show if they managed to get straight A’s on their midterms and didn’t get into any fights.

With Nakida currently suspended, that privilege was lost. You could tell it ate her up even though she tried to downplay it. Erik noticed too, and while you struggled to find some words of wisdom that didn’t sound like a hopeless cliche, he had taken a call in the hallway. The urge to eavesdrop was strong but you avoided that temptation – barely. When he came back, he’d been cheesing and informed the two of you to get dressed, he had tickets. Unable to get Darius on the phone, instead you left a few voicemails. The last thing you needed is for your older brother to come back to the apartment if he got off work before y’all were back, then freak out because Kida wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

The show was packed with white folks in attendance(with a smattering of black people and other minorites) and honestly, it made you apprehensive. Being so cluttered together… You just weren’t the most sociable, outdoorsy, mothafucka. 

This isn’t about you though. 

“Oh, mah gawd, omg! We get to see the Corteo show! Auntie, this is so cool!” Wiggling your arm, she was cheesing so hard, practically vibrating with excitement. You smiled because she was happy, having no idea what a ‘Corteo’ was. “Thankyouthankthankyou, Erik!”

“You welcome.” He shrugged, a small smirk on his lips, before he pulled out his wallet, the tickets for all three of you visible, and he handed it to the guy at the ticket booth, returning the wallet back to it’s original place. “I’m hungry as shit.” 

“Bruh, we ate before we got here.” The food here was undoubtedly expensive. 

“Getting out here took a two hour drive, not to mention that slow ass traffic. Baby, I’m hungry.” Erik stated firmly. “Ay, you hungry, Nakida?”

Scuffing her shoe on the ground, she avoided your stare, “A little…” 

“See those food stands over there?” He pointed. Nakida nodded. “Bring back something for all us from each one, but hurry up, the show gon start soon and we need to get in our seats,” Then he handed her some cash and she ran off. “Why you got that look on your face?”

“I ain’t got a look.” You tried to deny.

“Yes, you do. It’s the ‘he’s spending too much money’ look. It’s all up in your eyebrows.” Erik only half teased. Reaching a hand out, he placed it behind the nape of your neck, bringing you closer to his body. “I like spending money on you, spoilin’ you.”

“But, why?” The question slipped out without permission. “This somethin’ you do for all your girls?” You could have slapped yourself. That sounded waaaaaaay too confrontational. 

There’s a minute tightening of his eyes at the corners. “If I didn’t like you so much, and you were just any other hoodrat, we wouldn’t be here.” Erik stated, voice tight. “And I woulda popped ya ass in the mouth for what you just said, in full view of everybody and your niece with zero fucks given.” You tensed, about to pull away, before the aggression seeped out his body, and he rubbed at the back of your neck. “…What’s it gon take for you to just trust me, to believe that I got you? That I wanna be wit you, and only you?”

Holy. Shit. 

You didn’t have time to come up with a suitable answer because Nakida was back, with the food. Still too hyped up on excitement, she missed the tension between you and Erik, excitement that only increased due to the fact that he let her keep the change. The tickets that he copped were front row and center, the seating arrangements set up so that Erik was right next to you and Nakida on the left. As the lights dimmed and the act began, Erik’s hand finds a place on your thigh. You half want to shake him off but this is Kida’s day, so you just ignore it, focusing on the show.

It was worth all that money. 

On the ride back, Nakida went on and on and on. It was the cutest shit ever. Darius met y’all outside the apartment complex. He and Erik exchanged this weird glance, sizing each other man thing before giving each other dap. Darius patted your shoulder and whispered ‘I approve’ before he gathered Nakida up in his arms, ignoring her half sleepy protests that she wasn’t a baby. 

You invited Erik up and as soon as you’re inside, his hand is around your throat, pulling you in for a kiss. This isn’t a nice, closed mouth kiss, no, this is open mouthed, biting, aggressive. The kind that had you wet instantly and moaning. Legs unable to support you, the two of you ended up tangled on the floor. He half sat up only to unbuckle his pants and undid the zipper, while you worked on getting your own jeans and blouse off, and just like the first time, the two of y’all were fucking on the living room floor. His hands are on your hips, probably leaving bruises, as he controlled how fast or slow you bounced on his dick, and your hands are thrown around his shoulders. Normally, this is your favorite position, but the eye contact, how deep he is… It’s all a little too much and your eyes drift to half mast when he brushes up against your G-spot. 

“Erik…” You whimper.

“Not yet, don’t fucking cum yet!” Voice rough, he fucks you even harder, his strokes shorter, faster. Nails digging into his shoulders, you try to be good, to hold off, but he’s hitting.that.spot.every. time, and… “Now, baby, cum now. All over this dick.” Eyes screwing shut, you let out the loudest moan, head tilted back as you cum. 

His teeth clamp down on your shoulder, barely stifling a shout, and he holds you even tighter as he presses as far as he can go, filling you up with cum. It should bother you, you ought be mad he didn’t pull out. Instead your hands drift into his dreads, fingers playing with his hair while y’all tried to catch your breath. 

Hand drifting down to his cheek, you coax him to look up at you, “…Okay. I’ll be your girl.” 

Erik snorted before he leaned up and captured your lips in a kiss, muttering, “That’s what I thought.”


	12. Chapter 12

It’s easy to get caught up with Erik, to be swept up in his energy. Although you’d tried to maintain a ‘slow and steady wins the race’ mentality when you’d agreed to be his girl, somehow, someway, the two of y’all just  _dived_ headfirst into a relationship. 

More often than not, you ended up staying the night over at his crib and you didn’t always use the excuse of wanting to play video games to go see him. He surprised you by how affectionate and touchy-feely he is, though you tried to get used to it and reciprocate in kind, you had been on your own for a good stretch and some habits are hard to break. It didn’t irritate him (so much) anymore and he even took it with good grace, seeming to make it his mission to wrap an arm around your waist that more often, kiss the back of your neck, or pull you into his lap, etc.

Nadia noticed the change in y’all dynamic and while she said that she approved, there was the feeling that she was distancing herself from you, which hurt, if you were being honest, since the two of y’all had hit it off instantly and been flatmates for over two years. 

However, you weren’t the type to beg anyone to be friends with you if they didn’t want to. 

The independent streak that your mother had nurtured in you your whole life wasn’t disappearing anytime soon, if at all, and occasionally, it clashed with Erik’s habit of spoiling you with too much of, well, just about everything: clothes, shoes, hair, nails, etc. Hell, he had paid off your portion of the rent for six months (you’d managed to talk him out of paying off the entire year just barely). While you would like to say that you were happy, and most of the time you truly are, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“Girl, you stupid.” Breanna, your older cousin, stated bluntly. “This nigga is payin’ bills, showering you with gifts, and, wait, is the dick good?”

You swirled the spoon in the bowl of ice cream, unable to meet her eyes. “So good.” 

“Did you hit ya head or somethin’? I should walk out of this cafe **RIGHT NOW**. You called me  _alllllll_ the way out here with a SOS text message and I’m thinkin’ it’s a serious situation.” Giving you the stink eye, she stabbed her slice of pie viciously. “Bitch, you is living the dream.” 

“It is a serious situation.” Ignoring her ‘girl, stop it!’ look, you purse your lips, “Like, I don’t know where he works, what he does for a living. He told me a little bit about his childhood, but…” 

“Y/N, baby cousin, I love you like a sister, and because I care about you so much, I’m going to say something that might hurt your feelings.” Breanna comments, putting down her fork.

“Oh, damn. Lay it on me then, cuz.”

“Your current boo is not your stank ass ex, Mitchell. Girl, you need to celebrate, apparently yo pussy so good, you got a hotep willing to be a househusband. I mean, damn. Give me lessons!” Expressively, she gesticulated as her voice gained an octave. Customers glanced in y’all direction and you laughed nervously before glaring at her. “Sorry, sorry.” Breanna apologized, tone lowering again. “Does he know about Mitchell?”

“Can we change the subject from that whack ass nigga?” You complain.

Mitchell Sanders had been your high school sweetheart and the two of y’all had dated a year and a half through college. During the final year of your relationship, he had been increasingly short tempered and critical of everything about you. While you were young, dumb and in love, you weren’t too sprung that you didn’t love your melanin skin and his passive-aggressive, caustic comments about ‘if you were a little lighter…’ only frustrated and depressed you enough to eventually dump his ass. Not even two months later, he started dating Cassandra Wynters, a preppy white soccer player. Last you’d heard about the happy couple, they’d been racing for the nearest courthouse as she was pregnant.

“No, because that nigga got yo silly-dilly ass thinkin’ that yo future baby daddy is a no good asshole wit a white girlfriend on the side.” 

“Oh God. You know what? I’ma head on out of here.” You try to flag down the waiter, only Breanna kicks you in the shin. “Ow, bitch! Mercy!” You hiss through your teeth. “The hell?”

“You such a baby.” She rolled her eyes. “Sit wit me for a few extra minutes before I gotta go back home.” Breanna instructed sternly, in the way that only family members really could command somebody to do anything. “This the only time I get some personal time away from Miguel and Tiana.”

“Oooh, how are your kids?” You pick up your spoon, the melted sweet dripping off the end and back into the bowl. 

Snorting, her tone is fond as she says, “Bad as hell as usual. Dre’s watching them right now so it’s all good. They always behave for they daddy.” Mushy expression changing quickly, she pointed a finger at you accusingly, “Girl, don’t even try and change the subject, though! You  _need_ to communicate with ya man so that he can address these issues early in the relationship. I will not stand by and let you sabotage yourself because you scared that you feelin’ this dude a little too much.” 

“Whatever, Bre. I’m done talkin’ about this for today.” 

Even though you said that, it lingered at the back of your mind the rest of the day. Work was routine so you didn’t mess up due to inattentiveness, thank goodness, and you couldn’t talk to Nadia since right now the two of y’all were in some strange type of friendship/flatmate limbo. 

"Wassup?” That’s the greeting Erik gave you before giving you a peck on the lips. “…Ay, you good?” He asked, pulling back a little to scrutinize you carefully. 

‘Fuck, he’s figured it out!’ Reaching a hand up, you place it against the nape of his neck, leaning in for another quick kiss. “Mm, better now. I mean, heh, why wouldn’t I be?”

Score one for being overcompensating. 

Eyebrows raising, for a heart stopping moment you thought he’d call you out on your bullshit, but Erik just shook his head. “…Okay. Good day at work then. I can work wit that. I’m sayin’ though, you wanted to check out that restaurant on McMillan and 4th West Ave? I made a reservation if you still wanna go…?” 

“The restaurant with the skyline view of the city and that famous seafood chef that cooks his food fresh every day?” Eyes lighting up, you launch yourself into his arms and he gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you. “Yes, yes, yes! Please!” Hands framing his face, you kissed him again, this time more intently, feeling his fingers squeezing your thighs. “And afterwards we can come back here. You let me say thank you again, properly?I might even get on my knees.”

Erik set you down on your feet. Bodies brushing up against each other, there’s no mistaking the feeling of him being half hard. “Don’t start that shit. Teasing a nigga before we go out in public.” Popping you on the ass, he snorted at the squeal you let out. “Hurry up. That reservation at seven thirty.” 

You gaped at him momentarily, turning to leave, “Why didn’t you say that at first?!”

“I’m tellin’ you now!” 

Last minute as it was, the two of y’all showed up literally dressed to slay. All eyes were on the both of you. The question in all of those pale faces were ‘How can these negroes afford to eat here?’, if not phrased exactly like that, the point still stood. 

Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care for once. 

It didn’t matter how Erik knew the chef personally and that they shook hands as if old friends, or how the table he’d booked was strategically placed right near the area where the chef worked and you wouldn’t miss a thing while he cooked. 

For tonight, you had decided to let those fears and anxieties go. To enjoy this date with ya man.

Then the weirdest thing happened. 

“Y/N?” A nasally, high pitched voice called. "Oh my God, Y/N! Hey, hi!” Waving excitedly is a slightly plump, but cute waitress. Handing off a tray of drinks to another waiter, she hurried over to the table. “It’s been  _so long_.”

“Uhh, baby?” Erik is understandably confused and so are you.

“I’m sorry. Do I…know you?”

“Oh! Oh, duh!” Slapping her forehead, she went through a quick demonstration of your alma mater’s hand sign. “It’s me! Cassandra!” She added, when it became clear that you were still drawing a blank.

“O-Ooooh,  _Cas_. Wooooow, girl. Hey.” Your greeting lacked enthusiasm and Erik raised an eyebrow at you. You valiantly ignored this as you grasped for something nice to say. “Lookin’ good, girl. Shoot, I ain’t even recognize you.”

“It’s okay.” Heavily, she dropped into a seat next to Erik and yourself after grabbing a chair from another table. “I know I put on a few pounds since college and I cut my hair.” 

“Nooo!” Waving your hands frantically, you shake your head, “It’s not that. It’s just…I thought you’d be on TV, living your dream as a soccer player and everything.” Erik ‘coughed’ into his fist. “Sorry! Cassandra, this is my man, Erik. Baby, this is Cassandra Wynters.”

He ignored her outstretched hand. “And we on a date. So…maybe get back to your job?” 

As if you’d only just recognized her uniform, you gasped, hoping it’s believable. “Oh damn! I didn’t mean to take up all your time with my chit-chatting. I don’t want you to get in trouble, and we  _are_ on a date, so… Rain check. I’ll have the, um, maitre d’ give you my contact info.” 

Cheeks flushed, she raised slowly from her position, “Right. So sorry, that was rude and inappropriate, my just running over here.” Laughing awkwardly, a little piggish snort escaped and you sipped at your drink to avoid laughing in her face. “I’ll catch you later then.” 

“Yep. Ta-ta!” Dismissing her, you turn your full attention onto Erik once again, relaxing only when she walked away. 

“That musta felt good, huh?” Erik is excellent at reading your body language and cues. You grin evilly and he snorted. “I can’t believe she just ran her ass over here like y’all was in a crowded subway station or something.”

Your shake your head and thank the waiter who refills the glasses while another takes the extra chair away again. “Some people have no home training!” You state in your best posh voice. 

Placing a hand over his chest, he played along, effecting a ‘shocked’ tone, “Why would you say something so controversial yet so brave?”

It was very likely that y’all made all those white folks big mad with how y’all were laughing and carrying on. Enjoying the food and each other’s company. And when it came time to leave, Erik’s hand on your waist is a warm comfort as you catch sight of Cassandra being scolded by the maitre d’, or her boss, or whoever, at the corner of your eye. For a brief moment, the two of you stare at each other and you’re the first to look away, tilting your head up to kiss at Erik’s jaw, an action that caused him to startle briefly before he captured your lips in a kiss that toed the line between being indecent and sweet.  

Maybe its God, or karma, or something else telling you to stop questioning every single thing about the mystery surrounding this man, that when it was time to know, he would tell you. To enjoy being the central focus of someone’s attention and who actually, truly, wants to be with you and only you. That everything would work out. Whatever the lesson to be learned here, the thought, ‘I am so blessed.’ Kept reverberating through your brain on a loop. And yeah, you gave that dimple cheeked fool some road head while on the way back to his crib. 

Can you really be blamed? 


	13. Chapter 13

“Neji… Neji,  _nooooooooo_!” Clutching at your chest, you watch what’s happening on screen without looking away once, hell, you barely even breathed. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, just as they did every time you watched this episode. 

His  _ **DEATH**_. ‘Oh Lawd, Jesus, give me strength.’

“Is it really that serious?”

“Shh! Shh!” You frowned, irritated by the sound of his voice, trying to interrupt this special, tragic moment.

“Don’t shush me.” 

“Nigga, shut u–” Annoyed, you turn your head reluctantly, about to give him the chewing out of a lifetime. Because really, you didn’t make this much of a fuss when he had y’all watching Dragon Ball Super and you ain’t even like that nigga Goku like that. 

Only when you turned your head, Erik is there, catching your lips in a kiss. You made a soft noise of surprise, and he took that opening, angling his head just so, coaxing your mouth open. Your hands find his shoulders, nails pinching at the toned muscles beneath the pads of your fingers, mentally cussing up a blue streak that he chose to wear a shirt today of all days while y’all was chilling, as his tongue stroked against yours sensually, causing you to lose your train of thought even more.

His hands stroked down your sides, pausing to grope at your ass, “Bring yo sexy ass over here.” Erik didn’t wait for you to get with the program. He shoved off the blankets pooled around your waist and lifted you up and onto his lap. Bracing your hands onto his pecs, you rocked back and forth, the motion slow and teasing, as you could feel him hard and aching, pressed up against you. As he made a move to lift your shirt up then off, you batted at his hands, “Fuck, baby, stop playin’!”

“I wanna take my time, Erik. Plus, this was  _my_ day and  _you_ ruined it.” You kissed him chastely, stopping his attempts to make it deeper. “Unless you want me to stop…?” Making a move to get up, you’re unsurprised when he clutches you that much tighter. 

“Aigh’t, aigh’t, you got it, damn! Just don’t stop!!”

Easing his basketball shorts down, you lick your lips as his cock springs free. You rub and pump his dick, up and down, up and down, a few times, until he gets antsy, wordlessly begging you to continue. Sticking your tongue out, you lap at the pre-cum oozing around the mushroom head, using the pointed end of your tongue to tease at his slit, making him groan. Then you lick him all over – along the sides, sucking on his balls, paying special attention to the head and sensitive underside. 

Then finally, finally, you took him in your mouth, and sucked. 

Hard. 

That garnered a louder reaction, expletives falling freely from his mouth and his hand went to the nape of your neck. You took him deeper, until you could feel him cock at the back of your throat. Just as you’re about to pull back and suck him down again, pretty confident that you can get him off like this, he stops you. Taking back control, he has you half on, half leaned over the couch as he fucks you hard, one hand lightly wrapped around your throat and the other playing with your clit, he makes you cum first before getting off. 

Once he recovers, he fucks you again, against the wall lined with a few DVDs and knick-knacks, one leg thrown over his shoulder and you’re throwing it back on him. And again, on the living room floor, legs spread wide open as he laps at your pussy and your hands are clenching his dreads tightly.

His arm is thrown around your shoulders and you’re sitting in his lap in the kitchn chair, the two of y’all having taken a temporary break, snacking on chip until takeout got there. You weren’t in the mood to cook and he didn’t feel like moving.

“I’m still salty as fuck you made me miss my favorite episode in that whole bullshit season. And…” Pausing, you stop halfhearted razzing on him, taking note of how quiet he is. “Baby?” Normally the nigga wouldn’t stop talking shit about how he had your legs trembling and weak kneed after blowing your back out a few times, so this was new.  ~~And scary.~~

Erik leaned his chin on your shoulder. “You know I really like you, right?”

Oh, shit. “Yea…” 

“And you like me, right?” 

“I wouldn’t let you keep nutting in me if I didn’t.” You couldn’t help sassing. Erik snickered before kissing your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Just something goin’ on wit family.” Heart stopping, you went to the worse scenario, thinking someone was sick or in the hospital. “My cousins…my aunt…they wanna meet you.” 

Ooooooh shit. “Okay.” You aimed to make your tone of voice sound normal, though some surprise leaked in there anyway. “And do you…want me to meet them?”

Erik made you face him. “Look. I know I ain’t been the most….honest witchu about what I do,” You nodded when he paused. “And you been real good, mindin’ ya business, letting me spoil you and not asking questions even though I know you wanted to. You really, really wanted to, I could tell. I appreciate that. But…”

“But?” You gently pressed the issue when it looked like he wasn’t going to continue. 

“But this is new to me. The whole relationship thing and I’m probably fucking it up somewhere, or I’m gonna, but I like you and I want you to meet the fam. You matter enough to meet them, and then I can let you know the truth, about everything.”

Taking a few minutes to process what he said, you inhale then exhale. “Okay. I’ll meet them. Do you have a date set?”

“My cousin’s in town today. He want to get dinner tonight. That’s good for you, right? I know it’s ya day off.” Erik half questioned, half suggested. And completely vulnerable, sincere. 

You press a kiss to his lips, arms winding around his shoulders. “Then it’s a date.” 

“Bet.”

Of course, that’s when Newton’s Law was at work because you got a call from Nadia. She was crying and upset, she needed you to come to the apartment, right now. If you were a grimy bitch, you woulda said fuck that and stayed with ya man, but she was your friend even though she’d been distant to you. So, reluctantly, you kissed Erik goodbye and decided to go see what was up.

Hopefully it was worth it.


	14. Chapter 14

The minute the apartment door swung open, your eyes snap to Nadia’s face, and you see it, the bruise the size of a fist swelling up her right eye. 

“Where is he?” 

“Let’s talk inside.” Nadia’s hand on yours is firm as she tugged you in, using her hair to shield the bruise from view; the motion too familiar, practiced. The organ in your chest throbbed with pain and you think you’re about to have a panic attack or something. 

“Where is that nigga, is he here?” Your hands clench then unclench, and you can’t focus on one thing, eyes darting around the room, categorizing how the living room is trashed; broken glass shards sprinkled everywhere, TV broken, a hole or two punched in the walls. 

It’s a mess. 

“Calm down, Y/N.” Nadia says, voice entirely too calm, nonchalant.

“Is. That. Nigga. Here?” You enunciate each word forcefully, eyes widened and crazed, angry. 

“He not here. Simmer down already, shit.” Exhausted already by the conversation, she flopped down on the couch. “I called you because I needed your advice.”

“Waterboard that no good ass nigga.” You immediately suggest, taking a seat beside her.

“What, no. That’s,” she laughs, “That’s crazy. Y/N, stop it. Be serious.” 

You aren’t laughing. “I’m deadass. I know somebody who know somebody. They’ll snatch that bitch nigga up off the street, rough his punk ass up, and–”

Nadia couldn’t listen anymore. “I’m the one who started it by spitting in his face!”

“…The fuck. Why would you do that?” Almost always joking, Nadia wasn’t somebody who deliberately provoked people, or at least, she didn’t start something she couldn’t slick-talk her way out of. “Spitting on people is nasty, yo.”

“He dared me to do it. And I was just…” Sighing explosively, she ran her fingers through her hair. “…I found a pregnancy test in the bathroom trash, and I know it ain’t yours. You barely here, for one, and I can’t see you or Erik being that careless.” 

And you had an IUD, but still. Making a motion for her to continue, "So the muthafucka got his side bitch pregnant, and you got pissed.”

For the next half hour, you listen to her with a sympathetic ear as she told you that for a long time, things had been rocky between Travis and herself. He had not intentions of settling down – with her, though he loved to lead her on with a carrot-stick maneuver and saying he might, he might, he might, while fucking around on her. He knew about the hookup she’d had with Erik and all the other times, with other people, while they’d been on a break. According to Nadia, the guy even made fun of her naivety in thinking he’d marry ‘a woman whose legs were always wide open’. The hypocritical dipshit.

That’s why she spat on him. 

Couldn’t really blame her for that, not really. 

“The girl he got pregnant, she’s only twenty one, Y/N. Twenty one…”, Shaking her head, Nadia laughed. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” As tears stung her eyelashes and her voice wobbled, you reached out, pulling her towards you for a half hug. “It’s okay. Fuck that dude, aigh’t? I know people say it all the time, but you are going to find someone and be happy.”

“You don’t know that.” 

“I do. You are a phenomenal woman and someone is going to recognize you for your worth. Don’t let some idiot take that away from you. You hear me?” Hot tears warmed your shirt and you rocked her gently. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I promise.” 

“I ain’t got nobody no more…” 

“It’s okay…”

Honestly, after that whole experience, you were drained. The thought of going out and being sociable, it made the hairs on the nape of your neck stand on end. Nadia wasn’t hearing that though. 

“B i t c h! This is an important milestone in your relationship. Meeting a family member?” Shaking her head, an ice pack over the swollen area, she gave you a thumbs up and painfully sincere smile, “Girl, if I was you, I wouldn’t have even brought my thick ass over here to deal with my bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit, Nadia.” You interjected, for the fiftieth time. “You my friend and you needed me. Case closed.”

“Whatever. I’m good. I’m gonna sit here and try and figure out who I can pay off to try and fix these damages before the landlord see this shit.” Tilting her head back, she sank more comfortably into the couch. “Forreal, you should go. See what’s good wit Erik and this mystery family member, actually  _find out_  what Erik does for a living. I’m betting it’s something physical. His arms hella strong.”

“Bitch.” You elbow her gently.

“What? I’ma single pringle now, so I can look,” Nadia said defensively. “It’s not like he would notice me anyway. The nigga got eyes for you only. It’s cute as fuck, keeping it one hunned.” Although you didn’t want to leave Nadia alone, she took your cellphone and texted Erik to come get you. 

When he came to pick you up, she all but shoved you out the door. 

“You still gon do this wit me, right? Meeting my cuz?” Erik could tell what was up immediately. “I can reschedule, it ain’t nothing.”

And he would, you realized, he cared for your personal comfort more than what his cousin would think. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, hands finding the nape of his neck, you tilt your head up and he took the hint, kissing you. “You don’t have to reschedule. So, where is this dinner taking place?” 

Turns out that it’s the Queen’s Cove, the most expensive hotel in the area. Some of the most important political figures and celebrities stayed there. Fuck, even Obama and Michelle had spent two nights there! You were internally spazzing out, mind going one hundred miles an hour, wondering exactly who Erik’s cousin was, who  _Erik_ was–

‘I’ll find out tonight. To-night. OMG. That’s not enough time! Holy fucking shit! Oh. mah. Gawd. Chill, Y/N. Just. chill.’ 

Calling up every ounce of zen in your body that you had, you manage to smile at Erik who’s eyeing you warily, probably catching the goofy, weird expressions you’d made while wigging out. 

"Clothes, we both need new clothes.” You say decisively. 

“I don’t really–”

“Nigga, bring ya ass on!”

“Aigh’t already, damn!”

After an exhausting rest of the afternoon spent looking for the perfect outfit, Erik dropped you off at your favorite salon to get your hair and nails done. It was a last minute walk in appointment and Chantay wasn’t the happiest seeing you – until she saw the amount of money you were paying her. While she worked her magic, you and Breanna texted back and forth, with y’all going through potential jobs and reasons for all this mystery and secrecy that Erik was doing. 

Bre also promised that she would send Dre to put Travis in check asap. Then the topic changed once again when she sent you the link to an article about the Wakandan king, T’Challa. 

Apparently he was slated for a press conference tomorrow morning?

‘She so dumb, but I love her silly ass.’ Smiling faintly, you replied that yes, the king was pretty fione, but he was a little too lean for your tastes. You ain’t want a man that didn’t know how to handle all your thickness. You cracked up laughing when she sent you a poop emoji, murmuring an apology when Chantay told you to keep still.

Once that appointment is concluded, the two of y’all took note of the limo waiting outside. 

The. Limo.

GSLKDHFSKFLJSD!!!

“Y/N?” Neither of y’all utter a word. So he tries again, “Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you, ma’am?” The driver asked, professional and relaxed, unruffled, by the fact that he’s being gaped at.

“That’s me.” You reply weakly. He opened the door for you. 

“I got the license plate number in case you go missing.” Chantay whispered out the corner of her mouth. Placing a hand over your heart, you throw up a peace sign and she waved, removing a cigarette from behind her ear and lit it. 

Question after question flew through your brain. You wanted to touch everything but at the same time, it was important to show some class. He drops you off at the apartment where you quickly shower, moisturize, and change (Nadia is gone but where you don’t know and have no time to find out), and when you come back out, the few people lingering around eye you with appreciation, curiousity and lust. 

The drive to the Queen’s Cove is completely silent but you don’t care. This feels like some straight up black Cinderella-out-the-hood type stuff. 

The next time the car pulls to a stop and the door opens, it’s Erik who’s reaching a hand out to you. Without hesitation, you take his hand and he helps you out of the limo, appraising you with hungry eyes. Although your inner mantra is that you’re in public and this is indecent, especially for a place this fancy, you give him a once over too. 

“Damn baby, you lookin’ like a whole snack.” 

Cracking a smile, because regardless, Erik gon be Erik, you let him kiss the corner of your mouth, so close to your lips. “Mmhm, you look handsome too, baby. Let’s go meet your cousin.”

“You right, you right.” There’s a distracted air about him and  _he can’t stop looking at you_. 

Admittedly, that swells your ego. That floaty feeling carries you through what might have been an epic freak out and meltdown because again, there were celebrities and politicians milling about, everything looked expensive. 

Fuck, even the air smelled rich!

The maitre d’ led y’all to a private booth/sitting area in the far back, not easily noticed by other people. And there, already seated… Is the King of Wakanda. T’Challa Udaku. 

“Cousin! There’s bobotie on the menu!” Eyebrows raising, you glanced at Erik pointedly, but he merely pulled out the chair for you. The whole ass king, T’Challa, put down the menu only to smile at you brightly, “Oh! I am so rude. Hello. You are Erik’s woman, yes?”

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Your Highness.” You said primly, about to raise up and possibly mangle an attempt at a curtsey, but Erik’s hand on the nape of your neck keeps you seated, the gesture effortlessly casual, but intimate.

“Please, there are no need for titles. Did you not tell her that, cousin?” Erik sat down too. “…Oh, Bast, he did not tell you that.” T’Challa, the king of an African nation, frowned. “N’Jadaka…”

“N-who?” Your brows furrowed.

T’Challa sighed and Erik eyeballed him, expression annoyed. “Bruh, don’t come at me like that! What with yo bitch ass Council putting that gag order on a nigga, what could I tell her but the kiddy shit?”

“Um…” You try to speak up.

“The conference is  _tomorrow_ , cousin. You could have informed her at least two weeks in advance.”

“You think I’m slow or some shit? Like I can’t read, muthafucka? Of course I know it’s tomorrow! I brought her down her to meet yo cornball ass, but we can bounce if you gon be on some other–”

 _THUMP_! 

Slamming your fist into the table, ignoring the throbbing pain searing through the appendage, you glared at them both. “If both y’all grown ass men don’t start actin’ like y’all mofos got some sense and recognize we in public, right now…” You say through gritted teeth. 

“Sorry, baby.” Erik mumbled.

“My apologies, Y/N.” 

After that, the tension faded away. The dinner felt relaxed and normal, like you were eating out with ya man and another brother or something. During that dinner though, Erik explained that he was a prince, third in line for the throne to Wakanda. The two of them made some questionable quips and remarks that bordered on being too dark, and you were most certainly going to be talking to Erik about that later. 

Erik, that wasn’t even his real name. 

It’s N’Jadaka Udaku. 

There’s something beautiful about the way the vowels rolled off your tongue and  _N’Jadaka_ , likes when you use it. Oh, yeah, he definitely liked the way you say his name, if his hand on your thigh underneath the table is any indication, the slow circles he’s rubbing into the satin smooth brown skin, teasing you. 

“Hi! I’m Mitchell and this is Cassandra, and we–”

_Oh. **NO.**_

It feels like the bottom of your stomach has fallen out. You are half afraid to even look up and see if they’re as close as you fear, but when you flick your eyes to the right, yes. Yes they are, right here.

Waiters. 

Ha! 

Right now, they’re pestering T’Challa, asking if he wants a refill of his drink, and you glance at ya man, trying to non-verbally signal to him that we had to get the fuck outta dodge before they noticed us. And either he was just horny or he got the message, probably the former, but he was about to get up when Cassandra turned and finally noticed us.

Shit!

“Y/N! Hi! Oh, goodness. This is such a coincidence, running into you and your beau again. I told Mitchell that I saw you at my other job and he didn’t believe me at all.” 

Somehow, you manage to smile, “Such a…small world.” 

There’s a pregnant pause. “Erik! Hi, hello!” Again, she offered her hand for a shake.

He ignored her outstretched hand. “This is a private dinner. Family only.”

Mitchell snorted, his handsome features twisting into a sneer. “Family? Y/N? No way. I grew up with the girl, that’s straight ghetto–”

Cassandra elbowed her hubby abruptly. “ _Honey_.”

“Nah, let him finish his sentence.” Erik took a swallow of wine, finishing off the glass. “‘Straight ghetto’, what?”

“I was going to say that Y/N and her family are an… _unscrupulous_ bunch.” Lying through his teeth, Mitchell plastered a smile onto his lips, though his eyes are bitter, cruel. Jealous. “It’s very unfit for her to be sitting next to, and dining with, royalty.” 

T’Challa raised a finger, “Forgive me for sounding uncultured in this. English is not my first language and I have not been to America often,” It’s clear, if only to you and Erik, that he’s downplaying his own intellect, he’d talked circles around you about a lot of topics and explained things without making you feel stupid. “But I believe you are insulting not only myself, and by extension, all of Wakanda, you are also insulting my own cousin, a prince, and his choice of female companion? Y/N is quite a lovely and intelligent, funny, woman, after all.”

“I agree! I  _so_ agree!” Cassandra nodded her head vigorously. “Y/N and I, we were friends once upon a time ago in college.” 

Unable to stand all this double talking and hypocrisy, your mouth opened, “Bitch, when?” You sounded so done at the moment. “Is it after you caught a case of jungle fever and decided that you were finished fucking Tim, who went on to become a famous country singer by the way, and chose this light bright nigga to be your Negro husband? I bet you were  **VERY** disappointed that the rumor of all black men having big dicks isn’t true.”

Cassandra paled, standing there, gaping at you. Mitchell, however, absolutely exploded. “You ghetto ass dirty hoodrat bi–”

One right hook and an uppercut and Mitchell hit the floor with a pained grunt. Erik put his foot on his chest, keeping him in place. “I’m from Oakland, California, straight up out the hood, my nigga. Erik Stevens, ask about me.” Grinding his heel into his chest for a few more seconds, he stepped over him, “Let’s get the fuck up outta here.” 

“Yoink.” You grab the bottle of wine, patting Cassandra’s shoulder ‘comfortingly’. “I’ll just take this for the road. Since we such good friends, you got me, right?  _Right_. I’ll holla at you on Facebook, boo boo.” With a wave of your fingers, you accept Erik’s hand, smiling big and pretty, especially when he adjusted his grip so that his arm is around your waist, headed for the exit. 

“Bill me for any damages, yes?” Smiling a camera ready smile, T’Challa dipped his head in farewell to Cassandra,  _ **ACCIDENTALLY**_ stepping on Mitchell’s hand and followed after his wayward cousin and date. 

Once y’all are outside, embarrassment overtakes you and you’re about to apologize to T’Challa but he only wagged a finger and smiled. “It was very good fun tonight. I almost thought you were too timid for my cousin but you have such a vibrant personality, Y/N.”

You look at the ground then away from him, unable to keep eye contact at the sincerity in his tone. “Careful, nigga, or you and me gon go round three for you flirting with my girl.” Erik joked, tilting your chin up a little to kiss your forehead.

T’Challa shook his head and chuckled, “Take care of each other and stay out of trouble, eh.”  

Then y’all go y’all’s separate ways. Erik and you get in the limo, while a fierce, bald lady opens the door to a sleek sports car, and T’Challa gets in that. Both vehicles take off in opposite directions. You reach for Erik’s hand and he holds your hand in his lap, his thumb tracing circles around the pulse point, a pensive expression on his face. You want to know what’s up but you also are afraid to know what’s bothering him, secretly figuring that it’s you and the drama that follows you around like a bad smell. 

When the limo drops y’all off at his crib, he immediately strips of the outfit, carelessly dropping the items of clothing onto the floor and elsewhere, motions agitated. You follow after him silently, carefully following his lead. The two of you shower together but he doesn’t touch you, or make any lewd comments. He gives you some clothes to sleep in and you think that y’all aren’t going to talk about the elephant in the room when he turns his back to you, and reluctantly, you turn so that you’re facing away from him too.

Only twenty minutes of this and you think you’re going crazy. 

You’re about to get the fuck outta dodge when he speaks, “I need…I need to tell you somethin’.” Heart sinking in your chest, you try to turn around but he holds you in place, apparently not wanting you to look at him while he tells you…whatever he needs to tell you. 

Pretty sure you were prepared for anything than what he told you about his life before he and you started sleeping together and became a couple. The uncensored version of who Erik Steven is…or rather, who he had been. 

Killmonger.

All of it. 

You’d like to think you were a tough as nails type of bitch, but that story had you crying hard as shit. Whether for N’Jobu, N’Jadaka, or T’Challa and his father. Or Erik’s victims…it’s a mystery. 

You just hurt.

“I couldn’t…couldn’t keep hiding what I done. I mean,  _I could_ , but tonight, if anything, proved that all that shit tends to come out one way or the other. And I wanted you to hear it from me, not nobody else.” He swallowed. “I ain’t gon be mad or, or, stop you if you choose to leave me. I understand.” 

The next time you attempted to turn around, he didn’t stop you. Legs on either side of his chest, hands resting on his abdomen, you stared down at him with red and puffy eyes. “If I got up right now to leave, would you choke me out, smack me, or shoot me in the head?”

He cleared his throat, blinking rapidly, eyes suspiciously bright, “No.”

“Do you have any plans to cheat on me?”

“Fuck no.” 

“Couples fight, they argue. That shit is normal. I might get mad and say some hurtful things, or you might be the one to do all that. We might yell at each other. That is normal. What I won’t accept is being made into Boo-Boo the Fool when you get mad and feel you have to prove what a man you are, then cheat on me with another bitch. 

I won’t be your punching bag or doormat. I am your woman, more than that, I’m somebody daughter, they sister. 

I’ve got too much respect for myself to let any of that foolishness go on. I will drop yo ass wit the quickness and cross the street to avoid speaking to you for years, if necessary.” Pausing, you take a breath, letting your words sink in. 

“Do you understand?”

Erik’s cautiously rests his hands on your hips. “I understand that, and I respect it. But I’m asking you to please, don’t throw that shit I told you in my face if you get mad. Ion care bout nun else but don’t do me dirty like that, Y/N. I’m tryin’ my best, baby girl.”

Baby girl. Oooh fuck, that nickname did things to you. You needed to get your hormones under control, bih, this is a serious moment! “’Kay.” You say, voice quiet, and you bite your bottom lip. 

He seemed to sense the turn in your attitude because he soon leaned up and kissed you open mouthed and nasty, squeezing your ass cheeks, the boy shorts you wore offering little to no protection from Erik’s groping hands, “You gon let me fuck you now, ain’tchu, baby girl?” 

Oh, this bastard. Moaning yessssss, you don’t resist when he yanks off the shirt you wore, accidentally tearing it a little before flinging it away, then yanked off the booty shorts, shoving his boxers down just enough to free his cock, teasing your wet pussy folds before pushing in  _alllll_ the way inside you. 

“You mines, you my baby girl, you gon stay wit me.” The words are quietly delivered every time he fucks up into you, and your eyes screw shut, breaths coming quick. “ **SAY IT**.” A particularly hard roll of his hips punches the breath out of you, “I can stay like this all night.” 

And you know he can, he would, tease you, the both of you, until he gets what he wants. “I’m yours, your baby g-girl,” Erik sucked at your throat, intent on leaving a hickie. “I’m not gon leave you.”

It’s like your words flipped a switch or something because he’s switching positions so that you’re beneath him and he’s fucking you nice and slow. Then again, this doesn’t really feel like fucking. It’s not rough or quick, with spankings or some choking. Whatever it is, it’s intense, and the way he’s looking at you, the way he kisses your shoulder, murmuring how good your pussy feels, and other sweet, perverse things, eventually sends you over the edge. You don’t deny it when he mutters, “You my baby girl…” Right in your ear just before he pushes inside you as far as he can go, filling you with his cum. 

After all, it’s not like he’s wrong; you are his. 


	15. Chapter 15

“What are we lookin’ at paying to get this fixed, exactly?” Anxiously, you paced the length of the apartment, careful to avoid stepping on the tools that were haphazardly placed on the floor. 

“Easily a stack,” Davion stood up from his crouched position, putting away his measuring tape. “Maybe more if the landlord tallies up other minor things in the report. If this dude as shiesty as y’all say he is, no doubt he gon try and hit y’all with criminal damage charges too.” 

“But we didn’t punch holes in the wall!” Nadia exclaimed, disbelieving. 

Eyebrows raising to his hairline, he looked her up and then down. “Who names is on the lease?” Seeing her chastised expression, he turned his attention to you, “I could caulk and plaster the holes up, then repaint it, but like I said, it’s other stuff that need to be tightened up. Ion like this, sis, y’all been here for over a year and this cheap ass ain’t come fix  _nothing_? The fuck, forreal…”

You shrug, avoiding eye contact. “It works for right now.” 

“No. It don’t work. You paying all this rent and he ain’t ‘bout his business? Then you supposed to go over his head and call the main office and file a complaint. They don’t do nothing, you start looking for other spots to live. Simple.” 

Feeling yourself start to get offended, you cross your arms in front of your chest, “Li’l boy, I suggest you change your tone when you speak to me, and you do it fast. I ain’t one of yo thottie girlfriends you be talking to like you they daddy or somethin’.”

“Hey…” Nakida, who’d arrived with Davion, tried to speak up.

“And you actin’ like you can’t do a favor by not charging us to fix this shit? Forreal? Like we ask you for handouts all the time.” Nadia threw her two cents in. 

“Is you forreal catchin’ an attitude with me after I used a sick day to come all the way out here and see ‘bout the latest fuckery you managed to get yourself into? Same ol’ Y/N, you never change.” Davion scoffed. “And you?” He looked at Nadia as if she were insignificant. “You need a severe reality check. I don’t owe you shit. I ain’t fucking you, so I don’t gotta do nothin’ free for yo ass. You will pay the price that I say because this here? Pretty much all on you.” 

“Guys…” Nakida again tried to pipe up, only to be ignored.

“You actin’ like I told that nigga to turn up in here!” Nadia all but shouted, veins standing out prominently as she got upset. “But I guess one ain’t shit nigga respect the game of another ain’t shit nigga, so it’s all good.”

“Nah, see, I ain’t have an attitude until you caught one.” Your nose scrunched up, as if you’d smelled something foul. “But then you always got ya nose up in the air when you gotta do somethin’ for the fam, and act as if it’s expected  _we_ do  **YOU** a favor without complaining or saying a word. Fuck up outta here wit that mess!”

“Can y'all stop arguing for five minutes!?” Fed up with being ignored, Nakida practically screamed, standing on the couch. Once she had y’all’s attention, she cleared her throat. “…Uncle Erik on TV.”

‘When did she start calling him uncle?’ You were thrown for a loop and frantically searching your memory, trying to pinpoint when that had exactly happened and coming up blank. 

“That’s the King of Wakanda and a Prince. Ain’t no way Y/N managed to pull a nigga like that.” Letting out a disbelieving breath and dismissive flick of his hand, Davion waved away Nadia’s words.

Kissing your teeth, you smirk. Went over to the door, threw it open so hard that it crashed into the wall and snapped your fingers repeatedly, “Time for you to get the fuck up outta here, bruh.”

He reared back, “Is you seri–”

Not letting Davion finish his sentence, you grabbed him by the front of his shirt, dragging him a little, he was half stumbling due your unexpected move, and you shoved him out the door. “Bye. Don’t wanna see yo ass again for two more years.”

“My to–”

SLAM!

Whirling around after locking the door, you stared at Nadia and Nakida. “Anybody touch this door and y’all will join him out there.”

Running her hands through her hair agitatedly, Nadia shrugged, “Tuh! You ain’t gotta tell me twice, bih, the fuck.” Kia shrugged too, heading for the kitchen and you settle down on the couch, only half watching the news though truthfully, your mind is stuck on the cruel words Davion had said thoughtlessly and your niece’s casual use of ‘uncle’ in conjunction with Erik; normally it took her longer to start claiming people as family, hell it took Nadia months and she was hella perky and friendly.

…Never mind, that might’ve been the reason Nakida didn’t warm up to her initially, the teen tended to think those type of people were fake. 

Davion loitered around the apartment for about thirty minutes, repeatedly asking to be let in before he eventually kicked the door in frustration and left. While you waited for Darius to come pick up his child, you texted Erik. 

Instead of continuing to text your man, and likely end up end in an argument with him too because you was mad at your brother, you chose not to text back anymore. Breathe in through the nose and let it out through the mouth. 

In through the nose, out through the mouth. 

Nadia eyed you warily, recognizing those patterns. You’d been a bigger loose canon when set off during your younger years. The littlest thing could have you wigging out on a person. Basically you just hadn’t been all that fun when that happened. Once you felt more in control, you turned the TV to Cartoon Network, watching some ridiculous cartoons and tried to get rid of the tension building at the back of your neck. A little bit later that night, Darius came and picked up Nakida. Although he was worn out, he agreed to drop you off at Erik’s new crib, the address which had been texted to you earlier. 

For a second, the two of y’all just sat in the car, admiring [the view](https://78.media.tumblr.com/2ff2a27cdd60cb4a3a4e6df83a93065e/tumblr_p6uknsmARn1upe33go1_540.jpg). “This nice.” Your older brother remarked, which, coming from him, meant that he was extremely impressed, practically whistling and everything. “I guess this how royalty do it.” 

Brows drawing together, you’re about to inquire deeper about what he meant but at that moment, Erik knocked on the window. Pushing the button so the glass rolled down, you don’t have any time to chastise him for what he just did because he leaned in and kissed you. Hand reaching out, you cup his jaw, hating this angle but you wanted more.

“Before y’all go any further, remember that my daughter sleeping in the backseat.” Darius’ voice brought you back to reality. He didn’t sound mad, just amused, thank goodness. 

“My bad, bruh.” Erik leaned back, scratching lightly at his beard. “Ain’t seen my baby all day, and,” he shrugged. “You know how it is.” This fool had absolutely no shame! “Anyways, I wouldn’t feel right if you was driving out here at night time, especially with the way these white people like to make unnecessary phone calls to the police. You and Kia can chill in the guest room til morning.”

“Ion know. I don’t wanna cause no issues…” Darius halfheartedly refused, all too aware that his tall stature made most people feel uncomfortable, sometimes threatened, combine that with the police probably being called, which was 90% more likely in this neighborhood…

“It’s spread apart and far from the master bedroom.” Erik added. 

“Aigh’t then.” He caved. “Thank you.” 

The tour was blessedly quick and Nakida was too groggy to really appreciate the view or freak out, which Darius was grateful for. He said goodnight to you and Erik while tucking the girl into bed, feeling the exhaustion weighing down on his own body, but aware enough that he wanted to be in the other guest bed before crashing. 

This fool couldn’t wait until y’all was in the [master bedroom](https://78.media.tumblr.com/4cc768e36b1dd9c5ac0185e61c57d9c3/tumblr_p6uknsmARn1upe33go5_540.jpg), which is nice as fuck, before he was crowding you in your space.

“So?” His arm wound around your waist. “What’s good?”

As Erik leaned forward to kiss you, you swerved your head to the right. “What’s good is that I’m tired too. I just wanna get a shower and catch some sleep. The drive out here is long and why you move out here anyway?”

“That’s not important.” He leaned up. “Can’t a nigga just want a change in location?”

Eyebrows raising, you looked at him, disbelieving, “Right in the center of Bougie Central? There’s only white people for blocks. I think I saw one Hispanic dude but he was cutting grass, Ion know if he lived at the house that he was doing that or what, but maaaaaaaaaaaan…”

“Okay, I let my cousin handle it,” he let the truth out, “The Dora Milaje already checked the perimeter, twice. Ain’t nothing to worry ‘bout. We good.” 

You kissed your teeth, “That’s what Rihanna thought too.” 

“And even if a muthafucka dumb enough to try and run up in here, he or she gotta get through me. I ain’t letting nothing go down like that.” Erik finished. “Why is you being so confrontational? I thought you was tired and wanted to shower before bed.” 

Rolling your eyes, “I’m being confrontational now because I’m concerned about what’s going on? You full of shit. Okay, Erik, bye.” Before you could take a step for the bathroom, he blocked you. “What is you doing? Move!”

“Nah, I’m good right here.” You took note of the stubborn jut of his chin. “Tell me what’s wrong, why you got an attitude?”

“Listen to me carefully,” Pressing your hands together as if praying for patience, “I. Do. Not. Have. An. Attitude.” You enunciate each word. “And you keep saying that I do have one? It’s making me upset.” 

“You had an attitude earlier, you was lowkey annoyed when you got here,” He counted off his fingers. “Picking arguments an shit less than five minutes ago and talking to me all disrespectful.”

“Because I don’t wanna fuck you?” Typical man. 

He ignored your scoff and how you rolled your eyes, still counting down, “You not in the mood, cool. A nigga know how to get off by my damn self, I ain’t tripping. It’s the way that you come at me I ain’t feelin’ and I’ma need you to fix that shit asap, Y/N.” 

“Or what?” You couldn’t help but challenge. ‘Shut up, Y/N, just shut up.’ “You gon’ pop me in the face? Yeah, my memory real good, my guy, and let me tell you, if you put yo hands on me, I hope you put me in the dirt because I’m aiming to fuck yo ass up.” Of course you couldn’t help bringing up old shit and stir the hornet’s nest while you were at it.

Erik’s nostrils flared, could see him grind his teeth. “…I see this whole convo is goin’ in one ear and out the other, witchu purposely blowing things outta proportion and hyping shit up. And I ain’t finna keep talkin’ in circles, playin’ into this kiddy shit. So I’ma do us both a favor and I take the couch in the living room, you take the bed. Good night.” 

Before you could utter another word, he did just as he said, walking to the bedroom door, opened it and then stepped out, closing it firmly. Then his footsteps could be heard walking away, headed to the living room, presumably. Now that you didn’t have anyone to fight with, you were left alone to deal with the headache slowly forming in your temples and the feeling of defeat. You caught a quick shower and found some of Erik’s t-shirts and shorts to wear. The bed was huge and comfortable…and hella lonely without somebody to snuggle up with, which you were trying to ignore as you rolled onto your side, then closed your eyes. 

Sleep did not come easily. 

You woke up several times, kicking the covers off because it felt too hot then it felt too cold, so you wrapped yourself back up. You laid on your stomach, then on your back. Basically, it wasn’t a good night’s rest and morning time came too quickly. There were two toothbrushes in the bathroom and so you claimed one, brushing your teeth and in the light of day having to recognize some of the shitty things that you’d done. As you bent your head to rinse out the sink and wash your face, when you lifted your head, you nearly jumped out of your skin to see Erik. He looked just as terrible, if not more than, you. 

‘That’s what sleeping on the couch gets you.’ “Hey, um.”

“Ya brother and niece gone. I already saw’em off.” Erik informed you curtly, tone clipped. “I can drop you back off at yo apartment wit Nadia if you want me to.” 

The apartment, ugh. “No. I don’t…I don’t want that.” Your gaze flitted to his chin then down and away. You fidgeted. 

Tired of the games, he sighed loudly. “Then what do you want? I’ll take you where you wanna go.”

“I wanna stay here witchu.” 

Erik laughed, short and bitter, “Why? So you can disrespect me some more in my own damn house? Ay, you buggin’, Y/N. You funny as shit, girl.” 

You ignored his attitude, because he had the right to be mad at you, still. Stepping closer, your hand reached out, fingers stroking against his. “I’m sorry.” You mumble. “I did have an attitude and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.” You chanced a glance up at him, catching sight of his tightened expression, jaw tense. “Baby, I’m sorry.” You were close enough that you could lean against him and you did, leaning against his chest. “Please say something.” 

Hands firm on your shoulders, he pushed you out of his space. “I don’t ‘preciate you tryna come at me like I’m one of ya little friends or a bitch nigga or somethin’. Bringing up old shit and throwing it in my face, that ain’t cool either.”

“I know.” You tried to speak up but he cut you a quelling look. 

“If I had done some shit like that, you woulda been clowning my ass and you know it.” That’s true. “This passive aggressive, bringing outside bullshit into our relationship type drama? I ain’t down wit that either. You get mad at me, it better because of something  _I actually did_. Not what another muthafucka done did or said to tick you off. And when I’m tryin to be an adult and discuss feelings and allat other stuff, especially when you know that shit give me hives, don’t be pretendin’ like ain’t nothing bothering you, like I can’t tell. I hate that shit, I hate that shit,  **I HATE THAT SHIT**.” By the end of his spiel, his chest is rising and falling rapidly as he exhales and then inhales through his nose. 

You stay quiet, only nodding when he’d finished speaking. 

Erik inhaled deeply then let it out. “I’m ready to listen to whatchu got to say now.”

Shaking your head, you can’t maintain eye contact because what happened yesterday just seemed hella stupid and petty and ridiculous. “I don’t like it when you go to bed mad at me. Or either of us going to bed mad at each other. Can we please not do that no more?” 

He laughed sharply, reaching out and snagged your wrist. Tugging lightly, he pulled you to him, lifting your chin then kissing you on the lips, short and sweet. “You cute as fuck for somebody who can be so damn mean, you know that?” Then he slapped you sharply on the butt, smirking when you jerked in reaction. “Yea, aigh’t tho. We gon work on that. In the mean time, breakfast is ready, help yaself. I’m ‘bout to hop in this shower.” 

“We can take one together.” You offered quickly, a little too quickly.

Again, he laughed but gestured for you to come on, beginning to strip out of his clothes and you did the same. Hurrying for the [shower](https://78.media.tumblr.com/65e1dca29aba1d4dbeae64540d2bf46b/tumblr_p6uknsmARn1upe33go6_540.jpg), as soon as the glass door closed and water pours down around the two of y’all, Erik is on you and he kissed you hungrily, hands framing either side of your neck, thick thigh wedging itself between your legs, so that he could stand in between them. 

Needless to say, very little showering actually happened that morning, for awhile, at least. But overall, things were still good between y’all, y’all had survived your first argument and it’d been squashed so it was a win-win. 

Or at least you were counting it as one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted everything about this series from my Tumblr here in case things don't go right today on the Net Neutrality issue.


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